It can be hard in London to view development and change without scepticism. Recent news of the Smithfield market closure, slated for 2028, in favour of some gaudy billion-pound mixed-used apartment office lifestyle retail “concept”, brings with it ennui; a vague but unthreatening sadness over some lost sliver of London.
Changes in south London in particular can feel stark. Cheaper land and rents than our north-of-the-river cousins mean ever more improbably planned buildings can shoot upwards with speed and unpredictability. Christ, just look at Croydon.
But while the swish co-working spaces at Kennington Park (#myworkspace, #spacematters) popped up in all their shining newness in 2021, there are some refuges, defiant reminders of a city that remains less changed. The Cable Café, opposite that aforementioned manicured unit of work, is one such place. This venue isn’t merely a café: it’s a gateway into a London less talked about. A London of interconnected communities, be they part of the live jazz scene, the hospitality scene, workers from nearby supermarkets and repair shops on the Brixton Road and students who call this part of town home.
Out of time
The live music shows connect it to a network of venues across town where hot jazz, reggae, soul and bop are played nightly, for free, and the hospitality connects it to guests who don’t want to pay £4.25 for coffee; they seek succour in places where home cooking still takes centre stage.
Any accusations of misty-eyed wistfulness aren’t unwarranted, but sitting in the Cable Café during the day is one of the few joys to be found this close to Kennington Park.
The Cable Café story begins in Waterloo, at Scootercaffe. On the now-thriving Lower Marsh Street, a scooter repair shop was purchased by Craig O’Dwyer. He is the sort of ambitious Londoner with a vision. Where the rest of us would see a shop full of nuts and bolts and wheels and grease, he saw potential. He opened up the basement, purchased enough bric-à-brac to film an episode of Antiques Roadshow, started roasting his own coffee at home and, piece by piece, turned the former workshop into a working café.
At night, with the lights dim and the drinks and jazz plentiful, this could be Paris
But it’s at Cable, the second site which opened in 2014, where things really took off.
Cable sits on the edge of St Mark’s Church, between busy delis and Latin restaurants and bars and an Italian Orthodox Church. Across the street at the sanitised co-working space, sorts that wear chinos and fine shirts enter and emerge folding their Bromptons and talk of commerce. Inside Cable though, time has stopped.
The feeling of timelessness is largely inured by the two clocks on the wall, neither of which work. Like Scootercaffe, the walls are heavy with antiques; the grille of a Wolseley motorcar, images of cattle, an ancient hand-levered French espresso machine, a mural of horse racing and gambling in Victorian Leeds, neon orange curved vintage light fittings, a piano in the back room.
During the day, vibrant tomato and caper soup with olive bobbers sate a range of bright young things. Cool students come for the price point and the playlist. Today it’s the Strange Boys and Sic Alps, the sort of bands you’d imagine O’Dwyer himself would have loved to host in one of his spaces. Tunnock’s tea cakes and cappuccinos and baked goods make way for a glut of keenly priced cocktails and beers. Negronis are £7, redolent of a time gone by, perhaps that lost sliver of London that O’Dwyer seems intent on maintaining.
It’s a Wednesday night and at 8pm, the jazz is already hot. A quartet of a double bass player, a saxophonist, a drummer and — sitting patiently — a near 80-year-old trumpet player are in swing. The room hums at an observant chatter, with most staying appropriately quiet as the players go on, but drinks still flow from the tiny bar.
Bright young things
At this time of night, with the lights dim and the drinks and jazz plentiful, this could be Paris. A hangout discovered down some alley in the labyrinth of Le Marais, or possibly New York. In any case, the bright young things are here. Students debate art and politics and flirt outrageously and side-eye the bartenders, eating freshly made soups for £6 and drinking two-thirds pints.
It’s not only midweek there is music; on Saturdays, the jazz flows freely too. Someone might pop over with a card machine and request a small cover charge, an optional tax well worth paying, but nothing obligatory.
The Cable Café is connected by ownership to Scootercaffe, but through community to a mosaic of south London venues dedicated to platforming jazz artists.
In a world where younger generations seem uninterested in the strong musical links which tie their favourite artists to anything pre-1995 (Charli XCX to Bonnie Raitt, via Justin Vernon, say) independent south London venues like the Effra Hall Tavern, The Windmill, The Swan, Jam Circus, The Crypt, Oliver’s and the White Lion champion a scene dedicated to connecting revellers, true music lovers, to that past.
An education? Perhaps. But it’s probably far less formal than all that. Permit some misty-eyed wistfulness, sink into Etta James and Amy Winehouse over the stereo, and salute this hidden sliver of south London.
8 Brixton Road, SW9 6BU. Open 9am to 11pm, Monday to Sunday; scootercaffe.com
